


Episkey

by FairyLights101



Series: Matsuhanaiwaoi Week 2017 [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst, Crying, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 05:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9533585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyLights101/pseuds/FairyLights101
Summary: Matsukawa’s hands fluttered. His throat felt tight, like it was closing up on him, and his next inhale was shaky as he struggled to stay on his feet, mind whirling at what to do, panic creeping in.I can’t do this. It was a joke. Just a stupid joke.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Seijoh 4 Week Day 4: Harry Potter AU

Matsukawa eyed the Great Hall, filled to the brim with students from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, more than he could count. Even with the hall expanded after the Battle of Hogwarts it was still cramped, tables filling the space as candles floated overhead against a backdrop of a clear sky filled with stars and a full moon. His eyes raked across the hall until he found the three heads he was searching for. 

Iwaizumi was in the thick of the Gryffindors, Kindaichi and Kunimi beside him, watching as he and Kyoutani arm wrestled for the umpteenth time in the last year. His friend made it look so easy as he pushed against his underclassman’s hand, even though Matsukawa knew that Kyoutani was nothing but  _ strong.  _ And wild. But Iwaizumi somehow had the blond under his thumb.  _ Probably from all of those arm wrestling matches. I wonder when Kyoutani’s gonna give up. _

Further on he found the royal blues and deep blacks of the Ravenclaws, Oikawa entertaining a mass of them with a radiant smile, his prefect badge glittering proudly on his chest. His hands spread wide, eyes bright as he gestured and jabbered to the first year students, and Matsukawa smiled, stomach twisting pleasantly at the sight.  _ Is he telling them about when we got detention in the first year? Aone and Fluffy were such a blessing in the Forbidden Forest. _

On the far end of the hall were the Hufflepuffs, nudging each other and grinning as they watched the small spectacle before them. Hanamaki had enchanted some of the cups and plates, and they were doing lazy circles around some of the ghosts, which had Legless Lev looking thoroughly amused when Makki arranged the cutlery into crudely shaped legs. Matsukawa grinned to himself and leaned his head on his palm as he glanced between the three boys he adored so dearly.  _ What fucking losers.  _

His eyes flicked to the one seated beside Makki and a grin spread across his face. “Hey, Keiji,” he stage-whispered, which caught the attention of the boy beside him. “Look at Bokuto.” 

Akaashi’s eyes snapped to the Hufflepuff table and a sigh instantly burst out as they watched Bokuto reach up and snatch at silverware that darted past. “He’s going to get his hand stabbed again. Madame Shimizu won’t be happy to see that he’s done that again.” 

Matsukawa grinned and patted the younger boy’s back. “It’s okay, if it’s any consolation he’ll probably be okay for the Quidditch matches coming up.” 

Akaashi’s nose crinkled, clearly uncertain, but his eyes didn’t leave Bokuto. Matsukawa had to bite the inside of his cheek to choke down his laughter - and comments of  _ “just ask him out already” _ too, something that Yahaba seemed to second because he snorted and shook his head. “God help me,” he muttered. 

Matsukawa smirked and leaned across the table. “You called?” His underclassman glared at him and kicked at him beneath the table, connecting squarely with his shinbone. Matsukawa grunted and slowly sagged into the table. “So rude, Shigeru,” he croaked pitifully, even as he grinned. His friend just snorted and turned away from him, though he could still see Yahaba roll his eyes. Mattsun just smirked and straightened up, eyes sweeping across the Hall once more. 

The students and professors were finishing their meals at last, the refilling of plates and goblets slower than it had been an hour ago. Even Hinata and Kageyama, off with Gryffindors, were at their limits. It only took a few more minutes for the plates of food to vanish, and then their dirty dishes a moment later, leaving them with empty tables and full bellies. A hush fell across everyone, unprompted by Professor Takeda, as clothes rustled with a collective turn towards the table in the front. Or rather, to the goblet that stood before it, the cyan glow and silver shine drawing every eye. 

Matsukawa’s throat went dry, apprehension crawling through his veins and up his spine. His fingers felt cold, shaking with nerves. He wasn’t the only one. A little further down he could see his fellow Slytherins of age looking nervous. Even though at least a hundred names had gone into the goblet and the chances of being chosen were slim, there was still a  _ chance.  _ And it was all too easy to recall what had happened at the first Triwizard tournament just a few decades before when it had first been reinstated with the death and all. There were dangers, sure, but  _ glory _ too. Matsukawa’s hands tightened as he straightened his back, jerked his chin up.  _ Whoever is chosen will take this win for us.  _

Professor Takeda clapped his hands with a smile. “Tonight, we select the champion of each school for the tournament!” He raised his hands and the fires and candles around them dimmed until the glow of the Goblet of Fire illuminated the Hall, ethereal, rippling across them. Matsukawa’s breath caught. He glanced to the right and found Iwaizumi’s eyes on him, then Oikawa’s, and finally Hanamaki’s before they all turned to face the front once more. Professor Takeda spread his hands wide. “Tonight, we find out who will carry our schools to glory for another five years!” Silence, so heavy and tense he could have cut it with a butter knife. 

The Headmaster drifted down to the dias where the goblet sat, the cyan flames flickering, rising higher and higher. A slender hand rose, extended to the enchanted flames. They roiled and shifted for a moment before they flared red, so sharp and sudden that some of the first years gasped. A piece of paper spat out of the flames, fluttering into Professor Takeda’s hand as the flames faded back to blue. All of the students leaned forward as one, a collective breath held as the slip was unfurled and examined for a moment. 

“Daishou Suguru will be the champion of Durmstrang!” 

Silence for a moment, and then the Durmstrang Institute students broke into a roar as Daishou rose, lips curled into a smile that made the hairs on the back of Matsukawa’s neck prickle as he bowed. Beauxbatons and Hogwarts students offered polite applause as Daishou bowed a few more times before he sank back down and the cheers faded back into the pregnant silence. 

All eyes were on the Hogwarts Headmaster once more as he extended his hand to the flames once more. Another burst of red fire spat out a second slip of paper that he plucked from the air and undid. 

“Shirofuku Yukie shall be the champion of Beauxbatons!” 

The girl who rose looked stunned, her eyes wide, but then a warm smile broke across her face as her fellow classmates cheered her on, hugging and kissing her cheeks while the other two schools applauded her. She bowed to the entirety of the Hall several times before she sank down as well, dabbed at her eyes with a persistent smile. 

Matsukawa’s heart tripped.  _ We’re next. It’ll probably be Hajime - he’s super strong and brave. Or maybe Tooru. He’s so skilled at Transfiguration, and he’s super smart. Or maybe Takahiro, because he’s just good at  _ everything _ like a little bastard.  _ His hands balled up into fists as he glanced at the three, then back to the goblet. It washed the room in a crimson glow for a split second. Another paper fluttered out. Takeda caught it, almost reverent, and held it for a moment before he pulled it apart. It felt like every Hogwarts student was holding a collective breath. Mattsun knew he was - he could feel the burn of it in his chest and lungs. But he just stared forward, heart in his throat. 

“The champion for Hogwarts is… Matsukawa Issei.” 

The world slammed to a halt. Hundreds of eyes slowly turned to him as he gaped, his brain no longer quiet working.  _ Me? There’s no way.  _ He wasn’t special or strong. Not even  _ smart _ . There were  _ dozens  _ of other students who had submitted their names who deserved to be the champion, to take the glory. Ones from houses that didn’t have such a poor reputation hanging on their heads. Dimly he felt hands nudge him upright and he stood, swaying slightly, the world spinning around him. There was only silence. Not applause from the Beauxbaton or Durmstrang students. None from his own house even, faces of shock directed at him.  _ No way.  _

Matsukawa’s hands fluttered. His throat felt tight, like it was closing up on him, and his next inhale was shaky as he struggled to stay on his feet, mind whirling at what to do, panic creeping in.  _ I can’t do this. It was a joke. Just a stupid joke.  _

A sharp sound shattered the heavy silence and he flinched, turned towards it.  _ Clapping.  _ From the Gryffindor table - from  _ Iwaizumi. _ Fierce pride filled his friend’s face as he clapped hard, a beautiful smile on his lips that made Matsukawa’s stomach do crazy little flips. Another clap joined it, lighter than Iwaizumi’s, and he found Oikawa had joined in, eyes crinkled and beaming at him, proud and overjoyed, and it loosened the tightness in Mattsun’s chest, just a little. A third joined, Hanamaki all the way down with the Hufflepuffs, face bright with exhilaration and so much more that made Matsukawa’s heart go weak as he stared. And as a cautious smile spread the entire Hall erupted into applause, his fellow Slytherins wrapping him up into tugs so tight he could barely move to bow at the other houses and schools or the professors. Someone shoved a napkin into his face, and only then did he realize that he was crying, a wobbly smile paired with it, and Mattsun scrubbed desperately at his face, sniffling all the while as hands clapped his back. 

The rest of Professor Takeda’s speech passed by in a blur and they poured out into the halls, the Beauxbatons students heading to their carriages, Durmstrang marching to their ship on the lake, and Hogwarts students streaming up and down the stairs to their dormitories. Except Mattsun’s feet slowed against the tide of students until he slipped away, pressed himself into the wall. They passed him by: some congratulated him with genuine smiles and claps on the shoulders; some eyed him with suspicion, or even open hostility, the green on his robes too much for them to get past. 

_ “I can’t believe the Goblet chose a  _ Slytherin _ -”  _

_ “Aren’t they a bunch of thieves and liars?”  _

_ “-should have been  _ me _ , dammit!” _

_ Oh. _

Matsukawa managed a smile as he closed shaking hands around his elbows, hugging himself tight.  _ They’re right. It should’ve been one of them.  _ He turned and shifted through the bodies, not quite pushing, but not drifting either as he worked his way through. He turned down the first vacant corridor they passed. He darted down it, cloak fluttering around his legs. He took a right, then a left at the next corridor, charged up a set of stairs that shifted as he moved. Higher and higher, up a second flight, then a fifth, then up to the seventh where he spilled onto the floor, wheezing and shaking, eyes burning.  _ No, no, no, I can’t cry, not here. _

Matsukawa smashed his hand to the floor, ground his teeth together, shoved himself up. His legs were trembling, weak at the knees, but somehow they carried him down the hall, past paintings that were already dozing for the right.  _ I don’t know what to do. I need a place to breathe. _ He reached the end of the hall and jiggled on the doorknob of the closest classroom, but it didn’t budge.  _ Fuck. _ He didn’t want to use a spell, didn’t want to fuck another thing up when he couldn’t think straight - but he had to  _ move _ , body jittering as breaths scraped their way down his throat. 

He darted back to the stairs, tried another room on the far end.  _ Come on, come on. _ Locked. Matsukawa slapped his hand against the door, the tears searing in his eyes as they spilled out. 

_ I just need somewhere quiet! _

He darted back down the hall, grabbed at another doorknob. It rattled beneath his hand but didn’t budge. Some of the paintings stirred, disgruntled, but Matsukawa couldn’t focus, couldn’t make out their words. He just sank to the ground, trembling, blind as his fingers pressed against his face, back to the wall.  _ Fucking idiot. Breathe already!  _

A soft whisper made him twitch. Eyes flickered over. Another door, this one new, stood against the opposite wall, just a meter away. It  _ felt _ different. Like it was  _ calling _ him. Matsukawa gasped again and pushed himself up with trembling hands. Each step he took felt impossible, but after a moment he slumped against against the door, grabbed the handle. It clicked. Swung open.  _ Oh thank God. _

He could only whimper as he staggered inside, managed a few steps, and collapsed within, right as the ugly full-body sobs ripped through his body. Eyes clenched shut, hands on his head, forehead to the ground Matsukawa bawled, tears pouring out, unstoppable.  _ I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m not a good champion! Sorry I’m not a good wizard! Sorry- sorry I’m even here, sorry I’m a Slytherin, sorry, sorry, sorry. _

Pain flared in his scalp. His nails dug in, cruel. His chest was tight, too tight, the world spinning around him. Mattsun slapped his palm to the floor, dragged his fingers into a fist across rough stones.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid! Stupid fucking joke!  _

He managed a gasp that felt more like a punch to the gut and be broke down into coughs, trembling, gasping.  _ Stop. Make it  _ stop _ already. _ A shudder rippled through his body as he gasped, chest impossibly tight, growing tighter. Pain in his sides.  _ Too much.  _ Trembling fingers dragged down the side of his face, bit into his neck. “Stop, stop,  _ stop _ !” he whimpered, other words shaped on his lips, unable to fall. 

Warmth on his back made him jerk, and the one hand turned into six, painfully familiar. He stopped breathing altogether, heart pounding in his ears, the rush of blood too loud to hear the whispers, faint against the overwhelming crush inside. Mouth dry with terror he tried to speak, but all that came out was a tiny whine. “-here,” Oikawa breathed into his ear. 

Hands swept down his hand. Tangled into his hair. Caught his hands. 

“We’re here.” 

They eased him up from where he’d slumped, pressed him into a sturdy chest - Iwaizumi’s. “He’s not breathing,” Hanamaki whispered in his ear. 

Cool palms cradled his cheeks, forced him to look into deep brown eyes as Oikawa leaned close. “Issei, breathe for me. We’re here for you.” 

His lips wobbled. The burn in his chest was  _ too much _ . His chest heaved as he sucked a ragged breath in, trembling as hands interlaced with his. Oikawa’s face was close -  _ too close.  _ Too many hands, too many voices,  _ too much. _ Matsukawa twisted away, shrank back into himself and instantly the touches retreated. Only voices spun through the  flood, a soothing undercurrent to his wild thoughts. 

“You’re alright Issei, it’s okay.” 

“You’ll be fine Mattsun, we’re right here.” 

“C’mon in ‘n out. You got this.” 

He curled his arms tighter around himself, but he managed a slow, trembling inhale. “So good,” Takahiro murmured nearby, “You’re doing so good.” Another breath. Another. Over and over and  _ over _ until the world stopping moving, until the sounds grating against his ears fell away. Matsukawa sniffled, rubbed his face into his knee. His hands loosened from the brutally tight fists they’d curled into. 

A sharp inhale caught his attention. “Shit… Issei.” 

His eye cracked open and he turned his hands over, still shaking too much. Bloody crescents marred his palms, trailed off to drip to the cobblestone floor beneath. Makki’s ash wand slipped over, and Matsukawa watched, blank, as the blood receded back into his veins and the injuries closed themselves, the pain dulling to a prickle, then fading altogether. 

Fingers whispered across his temple, pulled his gaze to the left. Concern dripped from Oikawa’s eyes, pulled his forehead into creases of worry as he stroked Matsukawa’s face, fingers sliding back into his hair. “Issei, baby, what happened?” 

His chest threatened to freeze up again, but Matsukawa took a long, slow breath, flicked his gaze to his other partners. They peered at him, expectant, calm - now at least. Makki’s eyes were red-rimmed, impossible to hide. He shook his head, dragged a hand down his face with a ragged breath. “It’s just… why  _ me _ ? A  _ Slytherin _ ? They were just… so mad, so of them. And- look, I’m not like you guys. I’m not smart. I’m not strong. I’m not average or better at everything. I just- the only thing I can do is catch a damn Snitch, and even then-” 

He broke off and shook his head, biting his tongue to smother the need to tip back over into hyperventilation. With a sigh he opened his eyes. Stared at his fingers, the nails edged with crimson. “It was a joke. I didn’t think I’d actually get picked. And… Slytherins, people still don’t exactly trust us, and to have one as a  _ champion _ -” 

“Is an honor,” Iwaizumi said softly as he took one hand, pressed the back of Mattsun’s fingers to his lips. “It’s the best thing to happen because you  _ deserve _ this. You’re a strong wizard, no matter what you think, and you being Slytherin doesn’t make you less of a person.” 

“Hajime is right,” Makki said softly, warm touch whispering down Matsukawa’s bicep. “You’re great at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. You’re a fantastic Seeker. So what if you’re Slytherin? There’s no one better to show those dumbasses that you deserve this. Joke or not.” 

He sniffled and wiped at his eyes, hands trembling. “You sure?” 

“We’re sure,” Oikawa broke in, voice smooth and soft. “Trust us.” 

He blinked at them, one at a time, before his head dipped into a nod. Smiles spread across their lips. “Thank you,” Makki breathed as he leaned close and pressed a kiss to Matsukawa’s temple. 

One by one they leaned in and wrapped him up into gentle hugs, peppering kisses across his face. Warmth filled his chest, loosened the painful tightness within, and he smiled as well as his eyes drifted beyond them. The stones ended a meter away, dropped off into a sizeable bathtub with a dozen faucets, a forest facade behind it. Small orbs of light bobbed overhead, shifting colors from cozy colds to sweet pinks and to calming blues. “Guys,” he whispered, “Where the fuck are we?” 

Makki giggled into his ear and squeezed him tighter. “I don’t know, but let’s take advantage of it.” 

He could only smile in agreement as he let them pull him upright, strip him down, and nudge him into the bath as Oikawa fiddled with the faucets until colored water burst forth, filling the air with a sweet but faint vanilla and floral scent as steam filled the air. One by one they sank in, and with every centimeter that disappeared beneath the warm water Matsukawa could feel the tension flee his chest and shoulders, leaving him weak. He smiled and let his eyes flutter shut as he submerged himself beneath rippling scented waters.  _ I don’t care where we are. I’m just glad they’re here with me. _

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaah I'm behind (*´∀`*) Please leave comments if you liked it  
> Hit me up at [fairylights101writes](http://fairylights101writes.tumblr.com/) to keep up to date with all my writing things!


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